


A Pleasant Mistake

by Star_dancer54



Series: Dear god old stuff. Like, seriously old. [40]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Written Pre-Deathly Hallows, accidental crossdressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-27
Updated: 2005-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-14 10:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13006251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_dancer54/pseuds/Star_dancer54
Summary: For lj user Grey_Hunter's birthday, which was yesterday. Happy Birthday!





	A Pleasant Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> AN (2017): Oh god. I forgot that the 'robe' Draco wears was my bridesmaid dress for when my sister got married. Um. Yeah. Oops?

Harry couldn’t help it. He started to laugh.

Draco raised an expressive eyebrow. “Problems, Potter?” he drawled, tugging lightly on the silvery Muggle robe he was wearing. He glanced around the camp grounds, trying to ignore the madly cackling man before him and studied what the other wizards were wearing. Several others were wearing hideous Muggle robes, as well.

Draco thought he looked rather smashing in his own Muggle robe, though. At least it wasn’t – he stared at one portly gentlewizard – lime green with large orange daisies. His was sleek, graceful, simple, and quite elegant. Plus, the material was heavy and the lower bit flowed almost as well as his customary dress robes. So it was rather tight across the chest, and it was rather odd to not have any sleeves in which to hide his wand, but he still had the custom-made wand sheath, so he simply tucked it there against his wrist. It was a bit confusing with the odd purposeful wrinkles that went diagonally from just below his left ribs to his right hip, but at least he had it on the right way. It didn’t matter that he’d needed help getting the tricky closing mechanism at the back shut.

He looked incredible. He was certain of it.

Or, rather he had been. What with the way fucking Potter was laughing, he suddenly wasn’t so sure of himself. He bit his lip.

Harry stopped laughing. A thoughtful look was on his face, and his eyes were darkening in a very recognizable manner. “Do you have on anything underneath that?” Draco shook his head. Really now, what sort of question was that? What self-respecting pureblood would dress in full-length dress robes and wear underbits? It got _hot_ under there.

Harry was creeping closer as Draco was thinking on the matter.

‘Y’know,” the black-haired man said huskily, “that’s actually quite hot, in a twisted way.”

Draco backpedaled carefully, trying to not trip over the hem at the back. “Most everything is twisted with you, remember?”

“True.”

There was a tree trunk behind him without warning. Just as Draco was starting to get a bit uncomfortable, the alerts went off, telling anyone within hearing range that the Quidditch World Cup was starting in twenty minutes. “We need to get to our booth, Potter. We can shag later.” He tried to dodge around the man, but wound up with both arms trapped in one of Harry’s hands.

“Actually…” Harry muttered, pulling out his wand and conjuring a small black tube. “Hold still, close your eyes and open your mouth a bit.”

Draco raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. Something thick and rather unpleasantly sticky was rubbed onto his lips.

“Okay, open your eyes,” Harry husked, his voice gone that deep growl that happened when he was incredibly turned on.

Draco blinked his eyes open and was treated to the sight of Harry Potter almost salivating at him with glazed eyes. Draco lifted his hand to his mouth, but Harry shook his head.

“Don’t touch it. At least not now.” He pressed his face to the side of Draco’s and hissed into his ear, “As soon as we get to the booth, I’m fucking you so hard you won’t be able to sit properly for days. Understand?” Draco nodded nervously.

Harry held on to Draco and tore through the anti-Apparation wards straight to their private booth.


End file.
